


As We Lay By the Fire

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fireplaces, Firsts, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Room Service, Skiing, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21881311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: David and Patrick manage to secure a free night at Snow Valley Ski Lodge for their very first romantic getaway.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 39
Kudos: 181
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	As We Lay By the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iola17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iola17/gifts).



> Ok hi! To my recipient: I hope you love this!!!
> 
> Thanks to my betas like a lot a lot for really aggressive cheering and really perfect ideas and you're the best. They also came up with the title. :D

“Okay, we’re all booked,” David said as he returned from the stockroom. “The woman on the phone said check-in is at three o’clock, but I’m _very_ charming so we can get there whenever.” He set his cell phone on the counter and made himself busy rearranging the lip balms in color order instead of alphabetical by flavor. And if Patrick changed them back one more time he was going to start putting them in a locked display case.

Patrick joined him by the counter, wrapping arms around his waist from behind. “You are very charming,” he murmured, kissing the back of David’s neck. David hummed in agreement as Patrick moved to stand next to him. “I can’t believe Ray just gave us that voucher.”

Ray had bustled in twenty minutes earlier to let them know he’d won a free night at Snow Valley Ski Lodge from the Canadian Closet Organization Professionals Organization’s annual gala. It was only good for one weekend—two days away—and it happened to be the same weekend as Ray’s Annual Small-Town Realtors’ conference. So, he’d offered it to them, and David had immediately accepted because they needed to _connect_. Stevie had even graciously agreed to cover the store for the low, low charge of an entire case of cabernet. 

Ever since the whirlwind of emotions during Singles Week two months earlier, he and Patrick had been trying to find privacy everywhere they could. They’d even booked an available room at the motel which, while great and fun and definitely worth it, was awkward for the vague looming feeling that anyone of the Roses or Roland or Jocelyn would somehow come bursting in with some ridiculous story about a deer on the highway or someone stealing the town sign. Plus the idea that anyone he was related to could _hear_ them left a lot be desired. Safe to say, they needed to get _away._

“It was _very_ generous of him,” David agreed and pulled Patrick into his arms. “And I’m very excited.”

“Mmm, me too.”

*

“Did you know they have a spa, Patrick?” David asked as Patrick drove them out to the lodge on Saturday morning. He clicked on their menu of services to confirm they had couples packages because he was definitely booking them a massage. 

“I know there are a lot of amenities, David, but—aren’t we going to actually ski? At the… ski lodge?”

David rocked his shoulders back and forth as he thought about skiing with Patrick. He probably looked _very_ cute in his ski outfit. “I guess we could ski,” David hedges. David had, of course, been skiing many times with many people, and he was mostly thrilled that he was going to be able to get nice and cozy with Patrick, hopefully in front of a working fireplace. 

*

Patrick pulled up to the main entrance of the lodge, and David flipped down the sun visor to check his hair. He was getting them an upgraded cozy cabin even if he had to slip a staff member some cash. 

“Uh—” Patrick began, “who is it you expect to see in there?” He asked, tone skeptical.

“Oh, Patrick,” David said, tilting his head like he was looking at a puppy. “You didn’t really think I was going to stay in a tiny room in the main lodge when there’s a one-bedroom cabin with a view up for grabs, did you?” He leaned over and pecked Patrick on the cheek. “See you inside!” He said cheerfully.

The lobby was—well, it was a lodge. Wood was… prominent. The ceiling was high and, uh, woody. And while there were far too many taxidermied animal heads affixed to the walls, David thought the whole environment was actually rather… uh, nice. They had some kind of artificial pine scent in the room that wasn’t terrible, and the smell of the fire in the giant fireplace along the back wall was _very_ cozy. 

The front desk was also made of wood, dark and sturdy looking, and higher than David thought a front desk should be but—well it wasn’t his ski lodge. 

As he approached the desk, he noticed a guest causing a… scene with one of the staff members at the desk. David got closer, could hear the man raise his voice, which he did _not_ care for at all. 

“I know this is something you can do for me, sweetheart, so can you just double check? I don’t think it’s out of the question to give me an upgrade.”

David’s eyes widened as he stared daggers at the back of the man's head. _What an asshole_.

The woman behind the desk didn’t budge. Didn’t even look down at her computer. “I’m sorry, sir. All of our luxury cabins are fully booked this weekend.” Her tone made it sound like this was not the first time she’d shared this information with this particular guest. 

“Okay, I think I should speak to the manager, I’m sure he can help me out here.”

David was seconds away from stalking up to the counter. 

“I’m the manager, sir, as you can see here on my name tag. You’re on the second floor, the elevators are to your right.” She handed him his paperwork, moved over to an empty computer and called the next guest.

“Hi,” David said, smiling as he approached the desk, watching Upgrade Asshole walk away sputtering. “So, that guy was a huge dick,” he blurted out, then thought he probably shouldn’t be saying the word dick to the hotel staff. The woman, Tasha as her manager name tag helpfully indicated, let out a short laugh and shook her head. 

“I don’t disagree with you, sir. How can I help you this morning? Checking in?”

“Mm hm. David Rose.” He gently strummed his fingers on the desktop and looked around the lobby at more of their… zoological decor. “I have a few questions, actually, Tasha.”

Tasha smiled _very_ fakely and gestured for him to continue. “First of all, how’s the rest of your morning been? Hopefully no other di—unpleasant guests?”

Her smile turned genuine and she shook her head again. “Not yet, but the day is young, Mr. Rose.” She typed some more information into her computer. 

“Oh—it’s—you can call me David.”

“I’ll need your credit card, David,” she said and David handed it over. He leaned on the desk. 

“Is there a similar decor theme in the rooms in the main building? Lots of… stuffed heads?”

David would normally be offended at the way Tasha was clearly trying not to laugh, but at least he wasn’t the kind of guest who was making her contemplate homicide. “It’s more of a… motif in the main rooms. Wallpaper, figurines, lamps shaped like trees.” David was doing a terrible job hiding the horror he was feeling at the thought of sleeping with any of those things within 30 meters. 

“Okay, you’re all set, David. I’m happy to let you know that all of the rooms in the main building are completely booked, which is _so weird_ —but I’ve upgraded you to a nice one-bedroom cabin with plenty of stuffed heads. I know you were looking forward to that.” Tasha was grinning and David was grinning as he took the room key and property information out of her hands. 

“I—thanks, Tasha. I can’t wait to see the dead—”

“Hey.” Patrick appeared at David’s side with their bags. “Did you,” he started, voice low, “get the—”

“Tasha, this is my boyfriend Patrick,” David said, and then he turned back to Patrick. “Patrick, Tasha just informed me that due to a ‘ _very weird’_ overbooking, we’ve been upgraded to a cabin.”

“That’s—yeah that is… weird. Thank you, Tasha,” Patrick said in a highly suspicious tone. 

“It’s my pleasure, Patrick. David was telling me how he really wanted to capture the true lodge experience—particularly the taxidermy.”

“Mm, I want to play along, Tasha, but we all know I was asking so as to avoid them.”

“Oh.” Tasha blinked innocently. “My mistake. If you head straight through to the back, Brady will drive you up to your cabin. It’s not too far, but with bags, it can be a hassle, though—your… boyfriend looks like he’s got things under control.” Tasha winked at him, and David grinned. 

“I know, right?” He squeezed Patrick’s bicep. Patrick, who was steadily turning bright red as he gathered their bags again and mumbled his goodbye to Tasha and nearly ran to the back door. “Thanks, Tasha.” David tapped the counter twice with his room key and turned to follow Patrick. 

“Enjoy your stay, gentlemen,” she called. 

*

“Oh, my _god_ , Patrick, _look at that fireplace!”_ David said as soon as he pushed the door open. 

“So exactly _how_ good are you at flirting with hotel staff members that you managed to get us what is very clearly the best accommodations in the entire lodge?” Patrick asked, setting their bags just inside the door. 

“Aw, honey, you’re the only staff member for me,” David teased and shimmied his way back to the foyer just to hear Patrick laugh. 

“Staff member, huh?” Patrick caught David around the waist and David took the opportunity to back him up against the door. 

“Mm, well technically I _did_ hire you.” David didn’t give him a chance to respond, just kissed him, soft and slow and honest, lips fitting sweetly against Patrick’s. 

Patrick slipped his hands into David’s back pockets, pulling their hips closer together—that was David’s _favorite_ move. He made a pleased noise against Patrick’s mouth and adjusted his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, bringing their bodies flush from knees to chest. David slipped his tongue into Patrick’s mouth, teasing, before pulling away and making his way down to Patrick’s neck to suck a hickey low on his neck. Either it would fade before work the next day—or it won’t.

Satisfied with his work, he leaned back. “Let’s hit the slopes,” he said, grinning smugly at the fact that Patrick was struggling to open his eyes, leaning heavily against the back of the door. 

“Now?” Patrick said, voice hoarse. “We could—we didn’t even look around the cabin. Or find the bed…” he trailed off, looking at David hopefully. David kissed his nose. 

“It’s best to get there early, that’s what you said. Besides then we can spend the rest of the day all cozy in front of the fire on what I hope is a faux bearskin rug. Come on let’s change.”

“Do you—what are you going to _wear_?” Oh, Patrick.

What did Patrick _think_ David was going to wear? One didn’t vacation in Aspen with Anne Hathaway without the right ski-chic wardrobe. He was just glad he’d grabbed the snowsuit when his old life went down the drain. 

Once he was dressed, _Patrick_ seemed to enjoy David’s ski-chic aesthetic, even going so far as to unzip the entire jacket while he distracted David with kisses before David realized what was happening and zipped himself back up.

*

In the staging area to the side of the chair lift line, David took his time adjusting his ski suit and the fit of the ski boots to make sure he’d be comfortable. Patrick was chatting with the guy who’d rented them their equipment, something about the sports logo on Patrick’s toque, so David strapped and snapped himself in and adjusted the velcro of his gloves. 

“Okay, David, I’m ready. Let me help you get these—oh. You’re—all set.”

David smiled. “I can take them off so you can help me put them back on if you want,” he teased.

Patrick cleared his throat. “No—that’s. You’re good. I’ll just—” He got himself situated while David watched—ogled, really, because Patrick’s ass looked _very good_ bent over in those pants. 

They held gloved hands as they shuffled over to the line for the chair lift, and David took a deep breath of mountain air. “It’s beautiful here,” he said, admiring the snow-covered trees. He looked back at the lodge—it looked like a painting, picturesque. 

When it was their turn to get a chair, Patrick very cutely guided David into the seat with an unobtrusive hand on his hip, and immediately grabbed his hand again as they took off. David leaned into Patrick; he’d always found this part quite romantic. The view from their height, the way the chair lifts looked like little pairs—two by two by two people hopping down. David threaded his arm through Patrick’s and snuggled in close. He’d forgotten how long it took to get to the top. 

Patrick was decidedly less cuddly. He was sitting stock still, and David could hear his labored breathing. “Patrick?” He asked, sitting up and wrapping a hand around the back of Patrick’s neck, careful not to scratch him with the velcro on his gloves. “Honey, are you okay?”

He saw Patrick swallow and nod. “Just,” he said shakily, “forgot this part was so high.”

“Oh, Patrick,” David said. “What can I do? Maybe you shouldn’t look down. Maybe close your eyes?” Patrick did. “Think low thoughts, okay? Like—um. Groundhogs.”

Patrick snorted out a laugh, so David counted it as a win. He rested his hand gently on Patrick’s thigh, and Patrick covered it with his own. “I’m just imagining what you would do if you’d ever actually encountered a groundhog, David.”

“Mm, actually let’s not imagine that. What about… uh—mud. That’s pretty low,” David offered. 

“Can’t get lower than mud, I guess,” Patrick played along. “Groundhogs and mud, groundhogs and mud,” he muttered, and David carefully leaned over to kiss his cheek. 

A few minutes later they were at the drop-off point, and they semi-smoothly disembarked and slid out of the way of other skiers. “How are you? Are you okay?” David asked, holding Patrick’s face in his gloves. Patrick gripped David’s wrists and sighed. 

“I’m okay, David. Thank you.” He had a look on his face that made David’s cheeks flush—eyes wide and earnest, mouth slightly parted—and David couldn’t take it so he pushed in close for a gentle smooch. 

Patrick hummed against David’s mouth. “Come on, babe,” he murmured, “let’s go.” He grabbed David’s hand and together they shuffled over to the top of the slope. 

*

“Okay, David, do you want me to go over the basics? You seem to mostly know what you’re doing but we can run through how to turn and—”

“Loser has to blow the winner on the bearskin rug?” David asks, tugging his goggles down over his eyes. Patrick blinks at him. “Okay, go!” David pushes off with his poles.

David squinted his eyes against the wind even though he couldn’t feel it through his goggles. Skiing was pretty exhilarating, he would admit that. It just seemed like a lot of work for, what, five minutes of a like a really long playground slide? He carved around a shallow curve in the trail and the finish line, as it were, came into view.

Patrick must have gotten his shit together and stopped blinking because all of a sudden he was pulling up next to David as he reached the final stretch of the slope. David glanced over, just for a second, and saw Patrick’s huge smile pushing his cheeks up against the bottom of his crooked ski goggles. David smiled, too, turning back to the bottom of the slope and crouching lower to—something about wind resistance and aerodynamics. He pulled ahead for a few seconds, but then Patrick was blowing past him, carving his skis in a way that made David think he was showing off, and then wedging into a stop. 

David grumbled to himself and came to a short stop next to Patrick. “ _Okay_ ” he scoffed. “Was that necessary?”

Patrick was grinning as he moved his goggles up to his forehead. “Was what necessary? Me winning the bet? I think it was. That bearskin rug is really calling my name.”

David made a face. “Excuse me, it’s calling _my_ name. We wouldn’t even _have_ it if I—”

“—didn’t flirt with the front desk lady—”

“—wasn’t such a nice person!”

“Uh huh. Well, I guess you’ll be giving me a nice blow job then.” He half-winked and then shuffled off in the direction of the chairlift line to take another run. David followed. 

Who would hold Patrick’s hand when they got halfway up the mountain and he remembered he was afraid of heights?

*

“It’s not _broken_ , Patrick,” David muttered, ushering his boyfriend through the door of their one-bedroom luxury cabin with fireplace and bearskin rug. “You skimmed a tree.”

Patrick said nothing but let David lead him over to the couch. He pushed Patrick down by the shoulders, dropped a kiss to his forehead, and knelt down to pull off Patrick’s boots. He took his time easing Patrick out of his coat, paying extra attention to his “injured” arm, and then trudged into the—sizeable, considering the space—kitchen, to toe off his own shoes and grab some ice and a dishtowel. 

“Here, let me,” David said softly as he rounded the couch again. “It’s probably just bruised,” he said, gently placing the ice on a reddened patch of Patrick’s outer forearm. “You sit tight. I’m going to go change.” He kissed Patrick’s pouty lips and collected their bags from the entryway and dragged them into the bedroom. 

David headed back into the main room wrapped in a fluffy white robe with the lodge’s logo on it. “How’s the patient?”

Patrick looked at him dubiously. “I’m not doing medical roleplay.”

That startled a laugh out of David. “Easy, honey. Just trying to help. You relax while I start the fire. I believe you have a bet to collect.” He winked.

“David, you don’t have to—”

“It’s not much of a chore for me, Patrick,” David murmured, leaning in close. “You know that,” he finished, voice low and husky. 

David watched Patrick’s cheeks pinken cutely and kissed one. “I’ll get the fire going.”

“ _You’ll_ get the fire going?”

Rolling his eyes, David moved toward the surprisingly tasteful stone fireplace. “You think I can’t light a fire?”

“When have you _ever_ built a fire?”

David raised his eyebrows and gestured vaguely to the wood. “It’s _built_ , Patrick. We’re not camping.”

“Though there _is_ a cabin.”

“I—yes. But—” David waved his arms in wide arcs, “—look at it. It’s mid-range accommodations at worst.” Patrick was grinning, laughing at him, still holding the bundle of ice against his arm. 

“Right.” He got up awkwardly, holding the ice in one hand against his other arm, and stood next to David. “Do you want me to light it? I think I have a magnesium fire starter in my bag.”

David huffed out a laugh, placing his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “I—love you,” he said, and god, it felt weird and perfect in his mouth, “but… I literally just need a lighter. They don’t want anyone burning the place down, they’re not gonna let you light a fire with your survivalist fire blower or whatever.”

Patrick opened his mouth, probably to protest, but David rolled on. “As much as I would love to see you very competently—” he leaned in close, “—light a fire,” he whispered, “I’m just going to use the lighter on the mantel, okay? Then we can get back to our evening plans.”

Patrick ducked his head and looked up at David through his eyelashes, and David kissed him, a gentle press of lips. “Okay,” Patrick said against his mouth, and David was just barely able to pull away to fumble for the lighter. He made quick work of lighting the logs, and the small flames began to spark and flicker.

“How’s your arm?” David asked, fisting his hands in the sides of Patrick’s shirt, tugging him closer by the hips. 

“It’s just a bruise,” Patrick breathed and dropped the ice before hauling David in by the back of the head for a frantic kiss. David made a surprised noise, and Patrick took advantage, shoving his tongue between David’s lips to lick into his mouth. 

David maneuvered Patrick back onto the couch and knelt between his legs. “Here, wait,” Patrick said, reaching over to grab a blanket off the back of the couch. He folded it twice and touched David’s hip beneath his robe to nudge him up. He laid the blanket down to cushion David’s knees and David had to lean forward and kiss him again. 

He struggled to tug Patrick’s pants and underwear down over his hips while Patrick pulled his shirt over his head, and then David tipped forward and fit his mouth right around the shiny head of Patrick’s cock. Patrick moaned loudly, surprising an answering moan out of David. They always had to be so damn quiet and careful at Ray’s and the motel and the store, biting pillows and fingers and shoulders to muffle their gasps and whimpers and groans. 

“David,” Patrick whispered, and then stopped, letting out another wordless groan as threading his fingers into David’s hairs. David took Patrick deeper—he wasn’t fully hard, but he was thick anyway, and David fluttered his eyes at the delicious stretch of his jaw. He curled his tongue, teasing the sensitive underside of Patrick’s dick, before pulling off, sucking hard up to the tip again. He opened his eyes and the look Patrick was giving him made all the breath rush out of his lungs. He rubbed his lips along the shaft, letting spit collect in his mouth and drool out of the corner of his lips. 

“Yes,” Patrick whispered, clenching his fingers where they gripped David’s hair and nudging him where he wanted. David took him in again, wet and messy, groaning when Patrick gently ran his fingers along the place where his lips stretched around Patrick’s erection, stroked at the skin of his jaw, thumbed away moisture from under David’s eye. “Look at you,” he murmured, and David had to close his eyes again. He reached down to press the heel of his hands against his own erection, rubbing to get some friction. Mouth still sucking softly, teasing, around Patrick’s dick, David shouldered Patrick’s knees further apart and grabbed at his hips to haul him closer to the edge of the couch. Patrick grunted and tugged on David’s hair in retaliation. 

David pulled off and Patrick’s hands slid down to his shoulders. “Mmkay, don’t be greedy. I’ll take care of you. Don’t I always?” He teased and got his hand between Patrick’s legs, nudging behind his balls, pressing the dry tip of a finger against his hole. David grinned when Patrick threw his head back groaning through clenched teeth and got his hands back in David’s hair. “See,” he said and, okay, yes, he was smug. He got his mouth back around Patrick, jaw already sore and lips swollen, and continued to rub at his hole, not pressing in, just around Patrick’s sensitive rim. 

Patrick was whining high in the back of his throat, one hand pulling hard at David’s hair—holding him but not directing him—the other was at his own chest, pinching a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. David knew he was getting close. 

Sliding his lips off slowly, pulling his hand away from Patrick’s ass, David leaned up on his knees and walked his fingers up Patrick’s chest, chin, and slipped them between his lips as he was gasping for another breath. Patrick took them in dutifully, sucking and biting, getting his tongue between them, getting them nice and wet. David leaned down to suck lightly at one of Patrick’s nipples, and grinned against Patrick’s chest as he moaned around David’s fingers.

David slid his slick fingers down Patrick’s chest, followed them with biting kisses, pausing with his lips on Patrick’s belly, right under his navel where he was sensitive and sucked a hickey into his skin. Patrick cursed above him and this time his hands in David’s hair did direct him down until David’s mouth was positioned conveniently over Patrick’s cock. 

Grinning, David pressed his slippery fingers against Patrick’s hole, a fingertip sinking into the tight heat as David licked a stripe up Patrick’s cock. Patrick was moaning nonstop, now, hips making aborted thrusts up into David’s mouth He swallowed twice, then eased up a little, breathing heavily through his nose. Patrick wasn’t pulling his hair anymore, he was squeezing at the couch cushions, hands in his own hair, fingernails scratching down the sides of his thighs. 

David was fucking Patrick, tiny thrusts of his finger in an out of Patrick’s ass, and Patrick was fucking David’s mouth, groaning into the fire-warmed room. “David, David—David,” Patrick was babbling, and David knew he was going to come. 

He pressed a second finger against Patrick’s hole, took Patrick’s cock deep so the tip pressed at the back of his throat. He swallowed again, fucked into Patrick with two fingers, and then Patrick was coming down David’s throat, hands pulling at David’s hair, hips rocking up as he shivered and shook in David’s hands. 

David eventually sat back, stroking Patrick’s thigh and wiping at his own mouth. Patrick was panting, and he wiped a hand over his face, but he recovered quickly—leaning forward to kiss David, pushing him back, back until David was clumsily shifting off his knees and onto his ass, stretching out on his back. 

Patrick followed, kicking his pants the rest of the way off and letting his weight settle on top of him, slipping his thigh between David’s and kissing David so thoroughly he didn’t even notice he was thrusting up against Patrick’s hip. He grunted into Patrick’s mouth, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s neck. “Let me—” Patrick breathed against his lips, shifting to the side a bit so he could push the sides of David’s robe out of the way and work a hand between them, get it around David’s length. David was leaking at the tip and he stuttered out a breath—Patrick’s hand was just on the right side of too rough, smoothing his precome down his shaft to get him slick. 

“Patrick,” David gasped, biting at Patrick’s lips, twitching his hips up into Patrick’s fist. Patrick licked into his mouth, sucking on his tongue before pulling away with a wet sound and kissing his way down David’s chest. He stopped to bite at David’s nipple, licked over the ticklish spot on David’s ribs, making David gasp, and settled in at the thin skin over David’s hip bones. 

David squirmed, huffing out a laugh that morphed into a moan as Patrick laid wet, biting kisses across to the base of his dick. “Patrick,” he moaned again, fisting his hand in Patrick’s short hair as best he could with one hand, laying the other on against Patrick’s cheek. “Come _on_ ,” he panted. 

Patrick grinned up at him. “Something you need?”

Clenching his teeth, David twisted his hips to try to get Patrick’s mouth on his cock. “You know what I need,” David muttered. “Please.”

“Mm,” Patrick hummed. “That’s better.” He leaned in and licked a slow line up the side of David’s dick. David was already turned on from sucking Patrick, he was hard and dripping and he was going to come any second if Patrick would just—

David cried out as Patrick sucked him down as far as he could, shivered as the head of his cock bumped the back of Patrick’s throat, just for a second. Patrick set a relentless rhythm, lips tight and perfect around David’s dick. He moaned, making David’s pleasure burn hot in his belly as his orgasm rushed over him. “I’m—” he tried to say, but Patrick took him further and he came with Patrick’s name on his lips. 

“Oh—fuck,” he panted, loosening his grip on Patrick’s face and his hips kept twitching up as he rode out his orgasm. Patrick hummed around him, making his whole body jerk, sensitive, before letting David slips from his lips. He grinned up at David again. 

“Is that what you needed?” He asked, but his hoarse voice detracted from his smugness. David pushed his face away and he laughed as he flopped onto his back next to David on the rug. 

Patrick scooted up so his head was level with David’s, and David got his hand around the back of his neck again, like he always did, to pull him in for kiss after kiss after kiss. “We should clean up,” David whispered. He was sweating—the fire was _hot_ —but Patrick distracted him for several more minutes as he kissed and sucked gently at the join of his shoulder. “Patrick,” he sighed. “I love this—and you, but I’m hungry.”

Patrick made a _very_ displeased noise, but pulled back anyway. 

They got distracted again once they stood, trading warm kisses in front of the fire, hands gentle across over sensitive skin. Eventually David nudged Patrick towards the bathroom. "I'll order room service," he said softly, kissing Patrick's cheek and moving to hunt for his clothes. 

*

David was just stepping out of the shower when he heard a knock on the cabin door and subsequently Patrick chatting—which meant the food was here.. He heard a tray clatter, and the pop of a champagne—or, god it’s probably zhampagne—cork. He poked his head out of the bathroom. "I didn't order anything to drink. I have wine in my bag from the batch that got mislabeled during Singles Week," he called. 

Patrick did an awkward dance as he walked over, two glasses held precariously in one hand and a breadstick clutched in the other. "Your... friend Tasha sent up the bottle with our food. She said, 'enjoy your evening,'" Patrick explained, handing David a glass and clinking his against it. "The card's on the table."

David grinned. " _Well_ ," he said, taking a sip--and thank god it wasn't awful. "That was very nice of her."

"Mm," Patrick agreed, holding out the breadstick for David to bite and taking a gulp of his own bubbly. "What's the progress in here?" He asked, peeking over David's shoulder to check out his skincare on the sink. "Don't want the food to get cold." Patrick swayed forward into David's space as he spoke, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "You smell really good," he murmured, kissing down David's neck. 

"Mmkay, thank you, I use Rose Apothecary body care products. I have two minutes left for my skincare," he said, nudging Patrick gently. "I'll meet you at the table." David kissed Patrick on the nose, took the breadstick, and then turned back towards the mirror.

*

After dinner, David pulled Patrick, along with the rest of the bottle of real actual non-zhampagne sparkling wine, back in front of the fireplace. He sat down on the rug with his back against the couch and tugged on Patrick’s hand to get him to come down—

“I should add some more wood,” Patrick said, and David stifled a giggle.

“ _Yeah_ , you should.” Patrick turned to look at him and David bobbed his eyebrows suggestively. 

“To the _fire_ ,” Patrick clarified, but he was laughing, too, and David considered it a win. David enjoyed the show as Patrick, glass in one hand, got two logs from the basket next to the fireplace and gently but competently nudged them onto the existing pile in the hearth. Patrick grabbed something that looked like a murder weapon and arranged the wood into—David guessed—a better position for proper burning, and David admired the roundness of Patrick’s ass in his pajama pants. 

Satisfied with his fire building, Patrick sat down between David’s legs and leaned back, resting his head on David’s shoulder. David refilled Patrick’s glass, knew they would both probably have headaches tomorrow, but didn’t care—he wanted to enjoy the fuzzy, bubbly feeling buzzing inside of him. He set the bottle back down next to them and nuzzled his way up Patrick’s neck, behind his ear. He pressed tiny kisses to the sensitive skin there and wrapped his free arm around Patrick’s chest. Patrick sighed happily. 

“So, how are you liking our first romantic getaway? Aside from your—injury.” David pressed his smile into the side of Patrick’s neck. 

Patrick made a pathetic noise that told David he was both embarrassed about the injury and resentful about the implication that it _wasn’t_ an injury. 

When he spoke his voice was soft, but clear. “David, of course I love it—I’m with you.” It was such a _Patrick_ thing to say—right when David’s about to tease him for being a pouty baby, he had to go and be all _earnest_ and made weird things prick at the back of David’s eyes. Must have been the fire. He kissed Patrick’s neck to avoid responding. “Are you enjoying it?” Patrick asked him.

David didn’t think he could answer without his voice cracking or breaking or doing something equally emotionally revealing, so he just nodded against Patrick’s neck. “Mm hm.”

“David…” Patrick set his glass aside and turned his head to catch David’s lips in a poorly angled but deliciously deep kiss. 

They managed to maneuver themselves horizontal, making out until their lips were sore and the fire was nearly out and the sparkling wine was gone. After Patrick fell asleep mid-kiss, David decided it was time for bed. He let Patrick put out the fire—and listened to him narrate each step—then kissed him on his flushed cheek and pulled him into the bedroom.

*

David absolutely hated waking up, so leave it to Patrick to make it his personal mission to discover a single way that David could tolerate. 

“Mmph,” David mumbled as he felt Patrick’s lips against his jaw. 

“Good morning,” Patrick said into David’s skin. His lips were warm, and soft, and gentle, like they always were whenever they had the luxury of waking up together. Patrick was holding the other side of David’s neck, his thumb pressing softly against David’s jaw to move him where he needed as he mapped out a route along David’s throat. “Did you sleep well?” He asked, lips still slipping against David’s stubbled cheek. 

David didn’t answer—he never did—just made some kind of assenting noise and let Patrick keep kissing him all the way awake. Patrick finally made his way to David’s lips, turning David towards him and pressing a soft, closed-mouth kiss to his lips. David finally opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at his sleep-rumpled boyfriend. 

Patrick grinned. “It’s after 8 so I don’t want to hear it,” he said, referring to David’s very strict Don’t Kiss Me Awake Before Eight rule. 

“Mm,” David agreed and worked his arms up over his head to stretch. Several bones cracked and Patrick gave him a startled look. “If you say anything about my age, I will leave you here,” David grumbled, voice rough with sleep. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Though—didn’t I drive us here?” Patrick kissed his nose and David scrunched his face up. Patrick settled next to him, and David thought he might be able to fall back asleep. “What do you want to do today?” Patrick asked. 

“I know you want to snowboard,” David said quietly, turning to face him. “I can wait for you at the bottom and bring you hot chocolate?”

Patrick smiled wide. “I’d like that.”

“Plus the spa! We have to at least check out the amenities. There’s a pool.”

Patrick was nodding along. “We can fit that in, I’m sure. We have all day.” David nodded, tucking his smile into the corner of his mouth. 

He was starting to believe they had a lot longer than that.


End file.
